better
acquaintance."

"I threw it away," answered Wiley apologetically, "but it can't be
very far down the trail. I was short of water and lost, you might say,
and--well, I guess I was a little wild."

"And well you might be," replied the Colonel heartily, "if you crossed
Death Valley afoot; and worn out and hungry, to boot. I'll just take
the liberty of going after that bottle myself, before some skulking
Shoo-shonnie gets hold of it."

"Do so," smiled Wiley, "and when you've had your drink, perhaps you'll
bring in my rifle and the rest."

"Whatever you've dropped," returned the Colonel cordially, "if it's only
a cartridge from your belt! And while I am gone, just make yourself at
home. You seem to be in need of rest."

"Yes, I am," agreed Wiley, and before the Colonel was out of sight he
was fast asleep on his bed.

It was dark when he awoke and the light of a fire played and flickered
on the walls of his cave. The wind brought to his nostrils the odor of
cooking beans and as he rose and looked out he saw the Colonel pacing up
and down by the fire. His hat was off, his fine head thrown back and he
was humming to himself and smiling.

"Come out, sir; come out!" he cried upon the moment. "I trust you have
enjoyed your day's rest. And now give me your hand, sir; I regret beyond
words my boorish conduct of this morning."

He shook hands effusively, still continuing his apologies for having
taken Wiley for less than a gentleman; and while they ate together it
became apparent to Wiley that the Colonel had had his drink. If there
was anything left of the pint bottle of whiskey no mention was made of
the fact; but even at that the liquor was well spent, for it had gained
him a friend for life.

"Young man," observed the Colonel, after looking at him closely, "I am a
fugitive in a way, myself, but I cannot believe, from the look on your
face, that your are anything else than honest. I shall respect your
silence, as you respect mine, for your past is nothing to me; but if at
any time I can assist you, just mention the fact and the deed is as good
as done. I am a man of my word and, since true friends are rare, I beg
of you not to forget me."

"I'll remember that," said Wiley, and went on with his eating as the
Colonel paced up and down. He was a noble-looking man of the Southern
type, tall and slender, with flashing blue eyes; and the look that he
gave him reminded Wiley of Virginia, only infinitely more kind and